


Take Me To Church

by eclecticat



Category: EXO (Band), SHINee, VIXX, f(x)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Toxic Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 11:09:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5045947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eclecticat/pseuds/eclecticat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How do you save someone who does not want to be saved?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Me To Church

**Author's Note:**

> This is written for ateliers 2015. Big thanks to Kim for double-checking all the ballet information and to Amlika unni for listening to me rant about my fic plot and giving me ideas on how to improve it. Thank you to Jess too for giving me all those ballet videos. <3 Super super super thank you to Adele and Ansa for creating this wonderful event and for giving me extra time. <3 I started writing this fic back in March, but never got to writing it till the deadline loomed in. :| This is not beta-ed and my brain is dead, so I'm sorry if there's wrong grammar or anything.
> 
> Disclaimer: Obviously, I don’t own Royal Ballet or know any inside scoop about it. I’m from Asia and have never been to London or watched a Royal Ballet perf so most of the information here is brought about by research.

They meet on a certain Friday afternoon.

 

Junmyeon has his wayfarers on as he climbs the stoned steps of Eltham Palace’s famous garden. The view is spectacular, as expected from London, and it makes him forget the 12 hours flight from Incheon to Heathrow. He barely spends time at his rented flat in Convent Garden before he rushes to the palace to cover the Royal Palace’s event. It’s a job given to him specifically by his boss, Kim Minseok.

_“I need you to go to London,” Minseok says during one of their cigarette sessions at the rooftop of Seoul Weekly. The swirl of smoke disguises the smug face of his boss. “Royal Ballet’s new soloist will make his debut next weekend and Taemin requested you to cover it.”_

_Junmyeon cocks his head sideways as he releases a puff of smoke himself. Taemin has always been a brat, but he’s thankful he’s got a bratty cousin at times like this. “New soloist, huh?” He takes the cigarette hanging on his mouth between his fingers and crushes it on the pavement._

_“Yeah, some prodigy named Kai.”_

_‘Kai, meaning ‘unbreakable’ in Burmese and ‘victory’ in Chinese,’_ Junmyeon muses as he looks at the silhouette of a man in arabesque form in the leaflet. Take Me To Church, the title says and it makes his eyebrows furrow. It’s unusual for the Royal Ballet to take a liking on contemporary music.

“Would you care for a glass of wine, sir?” A waiter approaches Junmyeon. Junmyeon takes a glass and mutters his gratitude to the butler. The place brims with ballet dancers, VIPs and media alike. There are black cocktail tables set-up all throughout the garden while a curious mix of contemporary music plays in the background. Junmyeon has never imagined he’d be able to listen to the likes of Milk and Bones, Regina Spektor and Yuna in a Royal Ballet event.

There’s a huge church-like façade at the end of the garden and Junmyeon finds himself enthralled to it. Up close, it’s obviously made of white wood particularly finished to give an impression of unfinished business. There are huge windows and doors that let the light permeate through it despite the huge trees that blanket the whole place. Junmyeon sips his wine and goes back to where the rest of the people are.

“Junmyeon!” A lanky man calls his attention. Junmyeon looks back just in time to see his spoiled brat cousin crash into him. He coughs, totally unprepared for the weight before him. He pushes Taemin off of him and checks his suit for any stain. It’s still as dapper as his immaculately perfect blonde hair and clean pale face. Taemin, on the other hand, is the complete opposite. With messy jet black hair, dark eye make-up, pointed earrings and jagged suit, one wouldn’t think he’s a principal at the Royal Ballet.

“You came!” Taemin says excitedly. The smell of nicotine clings to his clothes and Junmyeon finds it all too familiar. It reminds him of their childhood days where they’d hide at their old family garden shed to smoke.

“Of course, I’d go. It’s my job to go here.”

“Ah yes. I do continuously give you a reason to go here, don’t I?”

“Not like I have a choice,” Junmyeon pretends annoyance as he rolls his eyes. Taemin merely cackles at the sight before he hugs Junmyeon again for good measure. Junmyeon offers a small smile to his cousin and asks about the whole event.

“Oh just a little project of mine,” Taemin offers as he waves to a waiter to give him a glass of wine. “I’m sure you’re going to absolutely love it.” Taemin’s voice is brimming with excitement and it makes Junmyeon expect a lot for the whole event. He knows that his cousin is a principal at the Royal Ballet, but he has never taken his cousin to be an exceptionally active one. The waiter comes with Taemin’s wine and the latter gladly drinks the whole glass in one gulp.

“I should have known it’s your project the moment I heard Yuna in the entrance.”

“Ah yes,” Taemin grins at Junmyeon, hair flowing against the wind. “Well, we all know how impeccable my taste in music is.” He winks, not at Junmyeon, but at the lady wearing a red flowy dress that needs more fabric in the back. Junmyeon merely shakes his head. _Some things just don’t change at all._

“You mean your atrociously obnoxious personality?” Junmyeon snorts. “Yes, I’m very well aware of that.”

Taemin fakes a heart attack, hands going to his chest and body constricting, before he lightly punches Junmyeon on the shoulders. Junmyeon dodges it, just like old times, and flicks his nose in vendetta.

They talk about South Korea and London - about the new yummy bibimbap place Junmyeon found at Ehwa and the unusual-looking bacon in London, about the extremely complicated train system of London which makes Seoul’s a child’s play in comparison, about Junmyeon’s latest shenanigans and Taemin’s long-term relationship with Krystal Jung, one of the Royal Ballet head’s granddaughter and their childhood playmate at the Kim mansion in Gangnam.

It’s as if they haven’t been away from each other for more than five years now.

“So you’re telling me Auntie still wants you to take up law?” It’s no news that Junmyeon’s mother wants him to be a lawyer. The Kim Family has a heritage of successful practicing lawyers who either have their own firms if not high profile politicians. Except Junmyeon the black sheep.

“Always as bullheaded as ever,” Junmyeon reminisce the latest drama that happened at their household. His mother storming to his room with application papers to Yonsei Law School and Junmyeon calmly telling her that he’s not interested in becoming a lawyer. It always ends in a truce.

“She is your mother, after all.”

Junmyeon shrugs. He’d rather not talk about it. Taemin understands his cousin and talks about the event instead. “I got a new kid under my wing, Kai, and this is his debut performance.” Junmyeon procures his recorder from the breast pocket of his coat. The work starts now. He pushes the record button and nods at Taemin to continue. “I’m sure you’ve heard of Hozier? We’re, well, I actually, I am experimenting on breaking down the traditional discipline of the ballet industry with Kai’s performance.” Taemin sees the smallest of frown in his cousin’s face and just chuckles. “You’ll see later what I mean.”

 

-

 

The performance begins after ten minutes.

Taemin excuses himself to check on his protégée, leaving Junmyeon to fiddle with his recorder. Junmyeon listens to his interview as he takes in the people rushing forward to the church-like facade. Junmyeon takes his place in the middle of the crowd, his Press ID now safely pinned to his coat so he can get a good spot to record the performance.

The sunlight illuminates through the small holes in the church-like façade and it creates a beautiful effect on the otherwise plain plywood stage. The wind suddenly blows and Junmyeon gazes as the leaves dance with it. The heartfelt background music comes to a stop and so does the whispers of the guests. Junmyeon feels his breath hitch. The beginning of a scoop is always exhilarating; thoughts of prioritizing ideas filling his mind. Which will appeal to readers? Which will create buzz? What photos will do justice to the performance? These are the questions he’s trained to answer when he does his job.

So it begins.

Kai settles himself on the plywood floor, head low and legs curled. Junmyeon takes in the sight of Kai as he indulges in the way the danseur slowly sways. The nude-colored tights and pointe shoes are dirty as it grazes on the hard surface of the floor. Kai’s ragged breathing could be felt through the small ripples on his ribs. He stretches himself out on the floor, muscles relaxing before tensing then he does a grand jeté.

Junmyeon honestly feels goosebumps at how good Kai is. And how he deeply reminds Junmyeon of Taemin’s rebelliousness. Tattoos are not as taboo as they were before in the ballet industry, but that doesn’t mean that danseurs go around showing them during their performances. Junmyeon catches himself curious about Jongin’s tattoos and their stories: the Joker on his left arm, the script on his hip, the cross on his inner right arm and even the drawing of a man on his right arm and the script on his right feet.

Back to the performance: Kai has a frown on his face. He pushes himself off the floor and stretches his legs to the other side. Slowly, he drags his feet against the floorboard and looks below. His curly brunette hair is a mess and sweat trickles down his back. The audience is still silent; not a single clap or murmur could be heard in the area.

The chorus begins now. A pirouette à la seconde' first then a tours en l'air. Junmyeon watches as the danseur uses the expanse of the entire stage to do a backwards chasse before he turns, putting his hands on his head and curling to himself. Junmyeon gapes at the next set of movements. Unconsciously, he puts his camera down and decides to look at Kai dance in front of his eyes and not through the camera lens. He is beautiful, if the word can even do him justice. Curly brown hair, tan skin and a lean frame that depicts feelings with every precise movement.

A grand jeté then a first arabesque. Junmyeon wills himself to do his job. He pulls his camera again and records the performance this time around. As much as he is a content writer, such perfect performance should be watched again and again so he can give an article that, at least, gives justice to it. Junmyeon can feel the anger and frustration in the danseur’s moves. The way he sighs, the way his ribs jut out with every stretch of his limbs, the way his leg muscles tense with every step.

Kai assumes a kneeling position and, as if on cue, the sunlight shines through the widest window on the makeshift stage, casting dramatic shadows on the danseur. His body stretches backward and his arms rise upward as he goes back up. Junmyeon takes a quick look on the other spectators and see the awes on their faces. It’s the climax. Junmyeon already has his lines for the article ready on his brain. Soon, Kai assumes a final kneeling position as he tries to catch his breathes.

The song comes to an end and the spectators’ claps resonate throughout the area. There’s a big grin on the danseur’s face and Junmyeon drops the reporter façade. Soon, Taemin joins Kai on the stage and together they offer a final bow before stepping down from the stage.

Junmyeon gives one last look at the danseur before he steps out of the area.

 

-

 

“Junmyeon hyung, meet Jongin,” Taemin lightly pushes his danseur in front. “Jongin, Junmyeon hyung’s my cousin.”

The interview takes place in the grand hall of Eltham Palace. The white leather sofas are a perfect combination with the oak furniture and articulately designed walls. Junmyeon’s shoes are firm in the plush circular rug as Kai, or Jongin as Taemin calls him, offers his hand to Junmyeon. Junmyeon accepts it with a small smile on his face.

Junmyeon briefs Jongin and Taemin with what’s going to happen. Taemin is an expert with interviews, basking in the limelight ever since his childhood, but Junmyeon can clearly see it’s not the case with Jongin. Gone is the overconfident danseur and is now replaced by a timid, lanky child who doesn’t know where to put his hands. Taemin stares at Jongin and that’s all it takes for Taemin to be in control of his protégé.

It’s quiet in the grand hall; the guests still preoccupied with the rest of the event’s itinerary. It’s a good thing the Royal Ballet rented the entire place. Junmyeon ushers Jongin to sit as he fixes the mini recording set-up in front of the arm chair. He adjusts the angle of the camera on his tripod and dictates Jongin to claim the perfect position. Once he’s satisfied, he counts up to three with his fingers and pushes the record button.

“Please introduce yourself and greet the audience,” Junmyeon instructs. He watches as Jongin takes a fleeting look at Taemin before he nods at Junmyeon. “Hello Seoul Weekly! I’m Kai and I’m a soloist under the Royal Ballet.” The confident danseur makes his appearance once again. A smile lingers on Kai’s face and Junmyeon thinks how beautiful up close the danseur is.

“Can you explain to us your dance earlier?”

“It’s about being in a relationship that is shunned upon by a lot of people. The frustration, sadness and anger that goes along with it because you are in love with a person whom everybody dislikes.”

“So it’s like Romeo and Juliet?”

“Not exactly,  but I suppose that will do?” The questioning look in Jongin’s face has Junmyeon chuckling loudly behind the camera. Jongin cracks a wide smile at that, realizing how silly his question is. He looks at Taemin who only nods at him in reassurance.

The rest of the interview goes well after that. A series of usual question. “How is it to be part of the Royal Ballet?”, “Is it too much pressure to be Taemin’s protégé?” Junmyeon receives a glare from Taemin at that question, but he shrugs it off. Soon, Junmyeon clicks the record button off and double checks the entire video clip. He gives an okay signal to Jongin and releases a sigh. At least that’s one part of the job that’s done.

Taemin thanks his cousin and calls his chauffeur to get the car ready. _Spoiled brat_ , Junmyeon thinks as he rolls his eyes. Jongin tries to help him arrange his things. “Thanks sir, for the interview.” He politely bows at Junmyeon and gives him his folded tripod.

“Part of the job. Also, don’t call me sir. It’s awkward, man. Just call me hyung. Or something.”

“Okay then, hyung.”

There goes that grin again. Junmyeon feels his heartbeat become erratic. To hell with these ballet dancers for being goddamn good-looking. Taemin casually drapes his arms on Junmyeon’s shoulders and nuzzles his neck. “Thanks, hyung. You know this means a lot to me.” Junmyeon makes a face and yanks Taemin away. “Get off me, you sleazy maniac.”

“Hey hyung, I may be sleazy and a maniac, but I have taste.”

Taemin winks, completely irritating Junmyeon. In the background, Jongin muffles his laughter, but Junmyeon manages to glare at him. Jongin immediately mutters an apology, cheeks reddening as he bows to Junmyeon once again. Taemin chuckles before his hand tightly grips on Jongin’s shoulders. It’s awkward. But boss-subordinate relationships are never relaxed anyway. Junmyeon grins at Jongin as if to tell him that’s it fine and he’s not really mad. Jongin wholeheartedly accepts it and grins back in response.

Soon, Taemin’s car arrives and he bids farewell to his cousin, dragging a quiet Jongin with him.

“Let’s drink before you leave for Seoul, hyung!” Taemin grins at Junmyeon, all dark gums and yellow teeth. His piercings glisten against the lighting of the entrance hall and Junmyeon can’t help wondering how Taemin can pull off his everyday stunts as he nods to his cousin. Jongin gives one final bow to Junmyeon before he follows his mentor to the car.

_They’re so different, yet so alike._

 

-

 

It’s Junmyeon’s third day in London when he realizes he needs to buy groceries.

Minseok calls him on his first night. An extension, he says. The management wanted an extensive coverage of London tourist spots, he says. Something about making good use of their most famous writer while they’re at it, he says. Junmyeon merely snorts and agrees.

He doesn’t have much choice anyway.

The weather is cold and the clouds dark when Junmyeon steps out of his apartment building. He digs his fingers on his jeans pocket, feeling the heat radiate from his skin. Coldplay sings through his headphones as he makes his way to the nearest grocery. The asphalt tiles are rough against Junmyeon’s rubber shoes and he finds it, as well as the European and colonial architecture that surround him, soothing to his senses. He’s been cooped up inside his flat for two days now, writing articles and checking e-mails for his work.

His senses take in everything they can. Tourists with their heads buried on a map, a man petting his pitbull on one of the cafes, businessmen taking a quick cigarette break on a nearby park. Junmyeon finds all of these inspiring. Being in another country tends to do that to him. He’s thankful to have the privilege to see such scenarios that inspire him to write about people and their ordinary lives. In his mind, he thinks living is already an art in itself.

“I’m sorry!” The rough shove to his arm distracts Junmyeon from his thoughts. He pulls his headphones down, ready for the onslaught of cynical remarks about to burst out of his mouth, when he sees Jongin bow to him continuously.

“I wasn’t looking; I’m sorry,” The boy is obviously flustered, dark brown hair flailing everywhere as he continues to bow. Junmyeon stops him by putting a hand on his shoulder. “Hey dude, its fine. We’re cool.” There’s a grin on Junmyeon’s face when Jongin sees him, eyes enlarging when he takes in Junmyeon’s casual stature.

A “Hyung…” escapes Jongin’s mouth before he smiles in recognition.

Junmyeon hasn’t expected to meet the boy so soon. He expects to meet Jongin next when he goes out with Taemin, but not now. Not three days after the danseur’s performance. And definitely not here, right now, in the middle of the street, with casual clothes on.

He should have dressed himself better if he knew he’d meet Jongin.

“Fancy meeting you here?” Junmyeon asks, taking in Jongin’s outfit. With plain black tee, grey jogging pants and rubber shoes, Jongin looks like he’s ready to go to sleep than go take an afternoon walk. It makes Junmyeon think how his dress shirt, denim pants and rubber shoes actually look somehow formal in a way.

“Need to buy milk for my cereals,” Jongin provides as if it’s reasonable to buy milk for his cereals at five in the afternoon.

The sound of tires against dry asphalt as well as the sound of Coldplay blasting through Junmyeon’s headphones echo around them. It vaguely reminds Junmyeon that they’re in the middle of the road and time hasn’t stopped. He chuckles and tells Jongin that he’s on his way to the grocery too. Together, they walk side by side with their hands inside their pockets and their eyes trained downwards.

“So, how are you?” Junmyeon asks, like he’s supposed to, as a hyung. They take a left on the next corner because Junmyeon’s GPS told him so and Jongin doesn’t seem to care where he buys his milk.

“I’m okay. Haven’t moved on from the all the media frenzy the other day,” Junmyeon thinks he hears a small laughter escape Jongin’s mouth. His eyes crinkle and Junmyeon is so tempted to touch it and maybe smooth all the tired wrinkles away. “Is it always like that, Junmyeon hyung? Always so…different,” Jongin uses in a lack of a better word.

Junmyeon ponders. Is it different? He has been an article writer for five years now and has interviewed people in all walks of life, but this is the first time an interviewee says that its feel different. Normally, his interviewees are ecstatic to be interviewed as if they’re thirsty for the attention.

“How so?” The trademark blue and red Tesco logo looms over Junmyeon and Jongin as they enter it, glass doors creaking in the process. Jongin gets a cart for both of them and lets Junmyeon go first. It’s eerily silent in the supermarket and it’s not like Junmyeon hasn’t been to London before, but it still freaks him out every single time.

“Like media asks you questions, but twists your answer in a way that fits what they want to hear…” Jongin states as he gets three cartons of milk as well as a box of Special K. Junmyeon scrutinizes his face; Jongin is serious. Has he made Jongin feel that way? Junmyeon purses his lips. It’s true that the media has a tendency to do that, but he’s spent his entire career making sure that he doesn't do anything as unethical as that, but what if?

“Did I make you feel like that?” Junmyeon’s hand on Jongin’s arms is cautious. Jongin looks at Junmyeon and registers the worry on the hyung’s face. They’re too close; everything is too close. Jongin bobs his head to the side and quickly apologizes. He didn’t mean to offend Taemin’s cousin. Not at all. Just…things.

“No, sir, no,” One step back. “I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s not you; it was just a few…” Jongin tries to explain, chest heaving and breathing heavy. Junmyeon’s eyes grow big as he realizes that Jongin is panicking. Like a child caught stealing candy. “Hey,” Junmyeon pulls Jongin close, softly, carefully. “It’s fine, Jongin. Calm down, I was just asking,” he attempts to calm down the danseur, but it’s clear that the danseur is still reveling at the aftershocks of his panic. “There’s no right and wrong answer, Jongin. I just want your opinion,” he reassures for the last time.

Jongin gets courageous and looks at Junmyeon in the eyes. They’re gentle and real. He lets a sigh escape his mouth before he forces a smile. “I’m sorry sir; I’m just new to this whole business and…” Junmyeon waves his hand to stop Jongin and lightly punches him in the arms. “What did I say about calling me sir?” Jongin says sorry once more before they go back to the task at hand.

The bright fluorescent lights and white linoleum flooring is what Junmyeon is familiar with. So are the combined scent of fruits and vegetables and the sound of carts rolling from one section to another. What he’s not familiar with is Jongin walking close next to him, Jongin brushing his arms with Junmyeon whenever they grab an item in the aisle. There's an uncomfortable bubble that settles at the pit of Junmyeon's stomach whenever he hears Jongin laugh at a silly joke he said. Under normal circumstances, he knows that his jokes aren't amusing at all, but Jongin laughs as if it's the best joke he's heard in years.

"That's funny, hyung," Jongin muses when they're already lined up in the cashier counter. Junmyeon manages to grin at the younger one, although he knows it himself that his joke is not funny at all. The cart is now full, with most of it Junmyeon's items. Jongin's cartons of milk and huge cereal box idly sits on the farthest part of the cart, while Junmyeon's items overflow on the other side. The crew doesn't even look them in the eye as she monotonously asks them if they're going to pay in cash or in credit. Junmyeon is quick to sidestep Jongin to give his credit card to the cashier who takes it without looking Junmyeon in the eye.

"Hyung, I'll pay for mine," Jongin tries to persuade Junmyeon, but it comes out as a whine as Junmyeon completely ignores him and gives instruction to the crew to pack the milk on a separate plastic. The crew simply looks at him as if he's lost his mind. Junmyeon tries explaining again, eyes on the overflowing things at the edge of the counter. Is there something wrong with his english? His english is not amazing, but he's quite sure that it's not broken enough to not be understandable. The crew continues to glare at him, a string of negative remarks obvious at the tip of her tongue.

The other people on the line eyes him weirdly, judging him for his demands. Jongin chuckles and whispers a "Hyung, don't you know? We bag our own groceries here in London."  before he sidesteps the elder, hands gripping the elder's waist ever so slightly, and picks a plastic to bag their groceries. Junmyeon feels a slight shiver run down his spine. He doesn't know if it's because of the shame of not knowing something so simple, or Jongin's chocolatey voice so close to his ears or Jongin's hands on his waist.

It must be the shame.

Definitely the shame.

 

"Thanks Junmyeon hyung, you'll be around for a while, right? Because I have yet to pay you for the groceries!"

Junmyeon's quite sure the lopsided smile on Jongin's face is going to be engraved on his mind for a long time.

 

They go on their separate ways with groceries on their hands and new found feelings on their hearts.

 

-

 

A soft Tschaikovsky piece plays in the background the next time they meet.

Junmyeon is on his porch, body sprawled on the bamboo armchair and a cup of juice on his hand. He just submitted his drafts for the new articles for the magazine and cleaned his rented flat. He deserves this rest. It’s almost three in the afternoon and the sun is not that bright as it reflects in Junmyeon's wayfarers. The view on his flat is spectacular, but he mostly blames it on being located in the 23rd level of the entire condominium. People walk on their own ways down below while Junmyeon's ears buzz with the light chaos that ensues on the streets. Buildings upon buildings greet his eyes as the clouds circle above him. Smiling, he puts the cup on the empty table and takes a long drag of his nicotine stick.

 _'This is the life,'_ Junmyeon thinks as he releases a puff of smoke from his mouth. He closes his eyes and tries to forget everything. The articles waiting to be written, the itinerary for the rest of the week, the looming danger that awaits him the moment he goes back to Seoul. He tries to forget them all, only to be replaced by memories of a chocolatey voice and firm hands.

It only makes Junmyeon open his eyes and shake his head. Why is he even thinking of Jongin anyway? He smiles to himself, a small resigned one, before he takes one long drag of his cigarette and smashes it on the cigarette butt. Maybe he should go take some photos in the park to relax his mind. Yes, that seems like a good idea. He's about to get up from the chair when sprinkles of water lands on his face.

"What the hell?" Junmyeon splutters ungracefully. He stands up, ready to curse at the offender, only to be greeted by a familiar face. "Sorry! I couldn't control the water sprinkler; I was just trying to water the plants!" Junmyeon sometimes wonder if Jongin always lands himself in awkward circumstances like this or it only happens with him. Secretly, Junmyeon hopes it only happens with him.

"Hyung! You live here?" The confusion is obvious in Jongin's face as he leans on the railing of the porch. "I didn't know you live here, I could have..." But seeing the water trail on Junmyeon's face reminds him of his true duty. "I'm sorry, hyung! The water sprinkler's fault!"

"You know," Junmyeon wipes the water off his face. "I'm starting to wonder if you have a grudge on me. Did I do anything wrong to you?" The grin on his face takes away the seriousness of his voice. Jongin furiously apologizes and offers to go to his home to give him a towel when a man suddenly come out of Jongin's porch.

"Hey Jong, are you talking to the plants again? What did I tell you about-" Taemin bellows from the window. He looks different without all the studs on his ears. With nothing, but an overly large plain white shirt and distressed pants, Taemin actually looks like a normal teenager he truly is. It reminds Junmyeon that his cousin, despite the success in his chosen career, is nothing, but a teenage brat.

"Hyung!" There's excitement on his face when he finally realizes that Junmyeon is his protege's neighbor. "You didn't tell me you live here! We could have toured you!" Taemin leans on the railing, crushing some of Jongin's plants in the process, uncaring of the dirt already smearing his shirt. Jongin's alarmed face on the background is hilarious and Junmyeon ends up guffawing and yelling at Taemin to back off. "Taemin, stop killing Jongin's plants!"

 

-

 

The black cab roars to life the moment Taemin closes the door. Junmyeon is on the left while Jongin is in the middle and Taemin is on the right. The cab driver asks for the address and Taemin quickly bellows a “Haxton” before the cab driver quickly steps on the gas. Junmyeon peeks through the window and sees the building pass by him, room lights slowly turning as the sun finally takes its rest for the day. He still doesn’t know he got roped into partying with Taemin and Jongin, but he’s here, sitting in between them, wearing fancy clothes.

Junmyeon just honestly clings on the fact that he can always escape his evil cousin’s clutches by smoking every now and then.

"Hyung, you're going to love this place," Taemin suddenly says. The black cab swerves when it makes a turn and Junmyeon finds himself being squished between the hard case of the door and Jongin's bony body. Junmyeon internally prays they don't die so he can _actually_ love the place Taemin is taking them to.

“You like raves, right?” There’s a glitter in Taemin’s eyes as he grins at Junmyeon. He doesn't really like raves or clubs or anything noisy for that matter. He used to accompany Taemin in raves before because his older brother, Jonghyun, asked him to. Something along the lines of ' _He's pretty close with you. Do you think you can go with him? Just this once, Junmyeon. You know how Taemin's issues are'._

"I absolutely love it."

 

 

 

They get off in a shady street. Junmyeon wraps himself in his jacket as he peers through the broken street lights and colorful people. Jongin stands close to him, eyes glancing curiously at the entire place. Clearly, the boy hasn't been to the place either. Taemin, on the other hand, jumps excitedly and starts ranting about how he discovered the place.

"One of my understudies, what's his name, Ravi, I think," Taemin pulls Jongin toward him. "You know him, Jong, you guys used to talk about tattoos. He's that guy with a huge tattoo on his right arm." Jongin nods while Junmyeon tries to move closer to them. "Yeah, well Ravi, we went drinking one time and one thing led to another and we ended up at this sick rave in an old church." Taemin guffaws at the mention of a rave in a church, as if it's the funniest thing he's heard in a while. Junmyeon doesn't see that though. He sees the way Jongin suddenly pulls himself away from Taemin and buries his hands deep inside his pockets, head lowered and lips folded. It makes Junmyeon feel things he's not supposed to feel, so he distracts himself with Taemin's dragging voice as they go up a flight of stairs towards the church.

The three get inside the church with just a mere wave of Taemin's hand to the bouncer. Junmyeon takes in the vibration he feels beneath his skin as well as the sticky flooring beneath his feet. The strobe lights are blinding while the swarming people are migraine-inducing. Taemin is excited as he pulls Jongin by the hand. Junmyeon's eyes linger for a second or two, but the loud voice of Taemin distracts him.

"I'm going to get those light sticks, okay?" Taemin points at a man wearing dozens of light sticks and waits for Junmyeon's nod before he leaves. Jongin and Junmyeon are left alone at the back of the rave party. Junmyeon settles his back on the granite walls and observes. He's too old for this shit and just the sight of humans grinding against each other, skin slick with sweat and hands groping strangers make him cringe. He has never liked this kind of places. Beside him, Jongin is clearly uncomfortable, eyes scanning and feet shuffling in place. Junmyeon watches as the danseur settles himself on the floor. The gothic architecture is a far cry from the chaos that's currently ensuing. Chandeliers are replaced with plastic glimmering lights while the altar houses a huge sound system and a DJ with his teeth biting his lower lip as he pushes all the right buttons in his contraption.

"Hey, you okay?" Junmyeon asks Jongin. Jongin looks up and stares blankly at him. He blinks once and blinks twice, but Taemin comes barging in before he can even reply to Junmyeon's question. "Here you go!" He already has a lighted headband and lighted bracelets on his body when he gives Junmyeon his own pair and scoots close to Jongin to help him wear his lighted necklace. Junmyeon watches as Jongin's eyes grow large at the gesture, all obvious and naive. Taemin's body touches Jongin's as he puts the necklace on and a headband similar to his on Jongin's head. They're too close, way too close, as Taemin giggles and pulls Jongin to the crowd.

"Come on, hyung! Time to have some fun!" Taemin shouts above the crowd. Junmyeon remains in his position for a while, digesting the scene before him, light stick tight on his hand, before he follows the two young boys in the crowd.

Everything feels foreign. The offensive music that blares through his ears, the rough heartbeat against his chest as he tries to jump up and down to the beat of the music, the sweat that continues to trickle down his back. Even Taemin dancing close to Jongin. The three of them are only feet apart, but it feels like Junmyeon is watching them from afar, like they're in their own world. Jongin has long let go of his apprehensions from the place as a lazy smile decorates his face and his body moves along with Taemin's. In the corner of Junmyeon's eyes, he sees Taemin land a peck on Jongin's cheeks and Taemin pull Jongin close to him, their pelvis touching and their arms wrapped around each other. He blinks and stops dancing, stops caring, thousands of thoughts circling on his mind. His instincts tell him to pull Taemin out of the club to question him and threaten him. Yet his heart tells him to just let go, pull back, and leave them alone. It's not his business. It's never his business. So he should just go back to his cave and be alone.

Junmyeon feels dizzy and it has nothing to do with the chaos he's currently in. He conjures memories of Krystal and Taemin eating lunch with him somewhere in Apgujeong, Krystal admitting to him for the first time that she's fallen in love with Taemin, Taemin seeking his help with his first date with Krystal. Goddamit, he saw them become together! Taemin finally straightened up when Krystal became part of his life.

Junmyeon lets out a growl and forces himself away from the crowd. This induces an angry crowd, but the increase in tempo and the huge plastic balls that get thrown onto them quickly dissipates their annoyance at Junmyeon's rudeness. Junmyeon is quick to walk out of the church, the cold weather slapping him in the face as soon as the entrance door closes with a bang.

A few people pause to look at him, all angry and disheveled. His blonde hair is everywhere as he frowns at the thoughts on his mind. It can’t be true. He must just be putting too much meaning into their gestures. It’s not like it’s not normal, right? Taemin can’t easily betray Krystal like that. Hell, Jongin doesn’t even look like he can hurt a fly. Surely he knows that Taemin is with Krystal, right? Everybody in the ballet industry knows that.

“Junmyeon hyung?” It comes out soft. Junmyeon turns around, fingers still digging on his scalp when see a worried Jongin. “I saw you hurrying outside. Are you okay? Did something happen?” How can a gentle kid like Jongin ruin Taemin’s perfect relationship with his girlfriend? He must be drunk. It must be all those wine he drank a few hours ago. The effect must be kicking in now. Definitely the drink.

“It’s nothing, Jongin. I just need fresh air, I suppose,” Junmyeon wills himself to smile, but he’s sure it comes out awkward if Jongin’s reaction is any basis. He checks the inside pocket of his suit for his cigarettes and instantly lights one, finding the familiar taste of nicotine on his tongue comforting. He closes his eyes as he releases a long drag, the stick burning as puffs of smoke fill their surroundings.

“If you say so…” There’s reluctance on Jongin’s voice. He waits for a few more seconds, gauging if he should accompany the writer or his mentor, but decides on the latter in the end. “Just stay here hyung if you’re not feeling alright, okay?” Jongin offers a small smile to Junmyeon before he runs toward the church entrance once again.

“It can’t be. Taemin and Jongin can’t do that.”

 

-

 

Ever since Junmyeon and Jongin found out that they’re neighbors, they started following a format.

Junmyeon stretches his worn out limbs and yawns for everyone to see on his rented flat’s porch and Jongin greets him with a blinding smile and a raise of his watering can. It draws Junmyeon closer, like a moth to a light, as he greets Jongin good morning and asks him what his plans for the day are. Jongin, in his own silly way, will say the same old thing.

“Breakfast, studio, dinner, sleep.”

And Junmyeon asks the same old question.

“Mind accompanying me to this place?” Junmyeon raises his hand to excuse himself as he rushes inside his house. He has a letter size poster on his hand now. It’s vibrant and colorful and Jongin can immediately see the words “art museum” in it. He nods before he can even check his schedule.

Last time, it was a restaurant and a park and a garden.

Jongin always say yes, like he has every time in the world for Junmyeon. It makes Junmyeon’s insides twist and makes his heart squeeze. False hope has never been his thing. But Junmyeon’s willing to take what he can get, so he can get validation that his initial assumptions are incorrect. He hasn’t seen Taemin ever since that fateful night they went partying. Busy with a new project, the principal said.

So Junmyeon grins and tells Jongin he’ll treat him to dinner on the 14th after they go to the art museum. He’s already planning to google which restaurant should he bring the danseur to when the small gasp that escapes Jongin’s mouth distracts him.

“Hyung, I’m sorry,” Jongin starts. Fingers tightening on the watery can. “I suddenly remembered I have an appointment on the 14th. Can’t we go on another day?” Junmyeon wants to say _No, we can’t. I already bought the ticket two weeks ago. I was so excited for this._ But he doesn’t. Instead, he pastes a reassuring smile on his face and says “Its fine, Jongin. It’s nothing important anyway.”

“Hmmm…do you have free time today, hyung?” Jongin asks before Junmyeon can go back inside his flat. It’s awkward how Jongin is playing with the leaves of his flowers instead of looking at Junmyeon. It might even been rude for some, but Junmyeon knows Jongin now. He’s awkward and shy at best. Unlike Taemin who is boisterous and shameless. They’re clearly opposites; there’s no chance for them to be together.

“Well, I plan on sleeping all day?” Junmyeon tentatively says. His hair flops against the wind. The chill is unwelcome and Junmyeon clutches his cardigan tighter. Jongin suddenly grins, all shyness gone and is replaced with playfulness. “Get ready in an hour, hyung. I’ll take you somewhere!”

Jongin’s already inside his home before Junmyeon can even ask him where they’re going.

 

"Are you planning on selling me?"

Jongin's chuckles echo in the otherwise empty downtown street. Junmyeon's eyes wander from one dilapidated building to another. The bricks are moldy and some of the lamps broken, unlike what Junmyeon is used to. Their bright clothing are a far cry from the dark aura of the entire street and Junmyeon finds himself clinging on his phone for dear life. Worse comes to worst, he has the emergency hotline ingrained in his brain.

'Why? Are you scared, hyung?" Jongin playfully asks. The skies are dark and the granite flooring wet. It's going to rain soon. Junmyeon can feel Jongin's hands curl on his arms and he stops and stares at the danseur. There's still that playful smile on his face as he pulls Junmyeon towards him and whispers "Boo".

Junmyeon slaps him in the back before they're both laughing and walking down a couple of stairs. "Are you sure we're going in the right direction?” He asks as he procures a cigarette from his pocket. The light that flickers from his lighter is a familiar sight and he finds it comfortable as he inhales his vice. Puffs of smoke emit from his mouth as Jongin waves at him from two meters away.

"Here, hyung, come here," Jongin frantically waves and Junmyeon inhales one last puff of smoke before he throws the nicotine stick to the ground and crashes it with his shoes. He hurries toward Jongin who enters an old building, its doors creaking with every move.

It leads to a small wooden staircase and Junmyeon carefully climbs down, following Jongin's lead. There are mural drawings of dancers in the walls as a whisper of a rhythmic music lulls him forward. "Jongin, where are you taking me?" He asks the moment he reaches Jongin. The corridors are small and the music louder the farther they walk.

"Just trust me, hyung. It's a fun place." He pulls Junmyeon hyung by the wrist and a playful smile. The music is evidently loud now and the floors vibrate. They're close; there's a huge red door at the end of the corridor and the music clearly comes from there.

Jongin opens it and they're both greeted by a sight of a conventional dance studio. The floorings are clean and the walls entirely mirrored. Sunlight permeates from the windows above while fluorescent lights are evenly scattered throughout the ceiling. There are barres on one side of the room while a hip-hop music plays loudly from the sound system. There are a group of three people dancing meticulously in the middle while the others are sitting on the ground, sweat dripping on their skin as they cheer on their friends’ performance. Junmyeon assumes they're all dancers as Jongin and he take their positions at the back of the dance studio.

"How'd you know about this place, Jongin?" Junmyeon asks as he ogles at the three dancing their hearts away in the center. Jongin waves at an acquaintance who nods at him. "I used to dance here before Taemin brought me to the Royal Ballet."

Junmyeon's eyebrows twitch at this news. "You didn't start out with ballet?!"

Jongin's laughter rings in Junmyeon's ears and once again, Junmyeon wants to collect it all and put in a jar for him to keep for himself. "I used to do hip-hop with these guys..." Jongin nods at the boys in the middle of the dance studio who are now crouching on the floor with a huge grin on their faces. The song just ended and the rest of the crowd are howling and cheering for them.

"Jongin!" One of them shouts, the one with blonde middle-parted hair. He's pale and scrawny and up close Junmyeon can see how perfect his face is.

"Sehun!" Jongin reaches for his friend and hugs him. Junmyeon lets a smile decorate his face as he looks at Jongin's familiar smile grow. The rest of the group circles around him, as if they're in a mini reunion of their own. Junmyeon backs away to give them space.

"Good to see you again, Ninibear!" The tallest among the group ruffles Jongin's hair. He's dark and there are wrinkles on his eyes already. Junmyeon thinks he's the oldest among the group, but the light-hearted smile on his face makes him look young.

"Hakyeon hyung, didn't I tell you to stop calling me Ninibear? Nobody has called me that in months!" Jongin whines as the rest of the group chuckles. In the corner of his eyes, Junmyeon observes a tall, pale man with a stoic expression reach out for Hakyeon and hug him from behind. "Hi Taekwoon hyung! Please tell your husband to stop calling me Ninibear," Jongin excitedly greets while the man merely stares at him.

"Why? Our popular ballet boy can't have his reputation ruined by a silly old nickname?" Another pale man with a lean body frame and a dimple that can kill jokes Jongin. A sweet smile decorates his face as he pulls Jongin to a hug. "Hey, hey Xing, I'm here. No hugging!" Sehun tries to pry his boyfriend away from Jongin as Jongin laughs loudly at his best friend's antics.

"What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to prepare for some rich kid event?" Sehun asks as he settles his head on Yixing's shoulder and his arms wrap around Yixing's waist.

"Nothing of that sort! I'm here with a friend," And this is where Jongin finds Junmyeon leaning on the wall and pulls him towards his group of friends. Junmyeon feels a blush creep on his face as Jongin curls his fingers on his shoulders, gripping him tightly. "Guys, meet Junmyeon hyung, he's Taemin's cousin."

"Hello, nice to meet you..." Junmyeon manages to blurt. He's never been one to be shy, but seeing how Jongin is opening up to him by showing him his friends is something else. Jongin's friends are nice. Soon, they treat him as if they've been friends for so long. Taekwoon and Hakyeon are older than him and are working as financial analysts. Hakyeon dances for his hobby while Taekwoon plays the piano in their home. Sehun and Yixing are studying Fine Arts and just dances whenever they aren't roleplaying rabbits in their shared flat.

 

"I'm glad you're spending time with Jongin," Hakyeon murmurs as he gives Junmyeon his coffee. They're in the nearby coffee shop. A treat, Jongin said. For friendship and for Hakyeon hyung and Taekwoon hyung’s recent marriage. Junmyeon feels like an outsider, like he shouldn't be part of their little special bonding session, but Yixing pulls him and assures him, with that silly endearing dimple, that it's fine and he's not interfering anything.

"Yeah, I'm glad too," Junmyeon mutters before he sips his coffee. They're seated on one of the secluded places in the coffee shop. Soft jazz music plays in the background as the afternoon sunlight permeates through the glass windows. Sehun, Yixing and Jongin are playful by the counter, unmindful of the frown on the service crew's face. Hakyeon, Taekwoon and Junmyeon are comfortable already on their seats. Taekwoon's arms are casually draped over Hakyeon's back as he silently sips on his coffee and gazes outside. He's a complete opposite of how active Hakyeon is. Hakyeon has his heart on his sleeves while Taekwoon is a challenging puzzle that’s hard to understand.

"We were so worried when Jongin told us that he'd be entering Royal Ballet..." Hakyeon starts. Taekwoon looks at him, alarmed, for a second before he goes back to staring at the people outside. "It was out of nowhere. Royal Ballet! That's huge! He's just a boy who has a natural gift for dancing, what does he know about ballet? What if he gets bullied? Oh man," Hakyeon rubs his temples at the memory. Jongin has no family. Hakyeon and Taekwoon technically took care of him ever since Hakyeon found out his favourite dongsaeng at his previous part-time job at the local restaurant lived alone. So when Jongin went home one day to say that he's going to be part of Royal Ballet, it was such a huge blow for Hakyeon and Taekwoon. Jongin said a guy named Taemin said he'll make Jongin popular while he enjoys what he does best: dancing. He said he'll make Jongin rich, that way he can help Taekwoon and Hakyeon hyung with their financial problems.

"So he went, and now he lives on his own again. But at least life isn’t so harsh on him anymore. I'm so worried most of the time, but at least Taemin is a good kid..." Hakyeon mentions in between sips. Junmyeon doesn't really know how to respond to that. It's the first time he's hearing these kind of information about Jongin and it feels awful, but at the same time, he's thankful for Hakyeon and Taekwoon for taking care of Jongin all these years. It must have been hard for Jongin to live alone at such an early age. Junmyeon sips his coffee and takes a peek at the bickering trio in the coffee counter. At least Jongin seems happy now.

"Sometimes we're worried about Jongin..." Taekwoon suddenly speaks. It's soft, almost silent even, and renders Junmyeon's attention. "He has bruises which I'm sure is not brought about by dancing. Sometimes he has a hard time walking and it's extremely alarming. I'm not sure if I should tell you this, but I can see that you care for our Jongin." Taekwoon pauses when Hakyeon clasps his hands with his. Taekwoon looks at his husband before he continues, "Someone's doing it to him, I'm sure, but he doesn't want to tell it. So please...please look out for him."

Junmyeon doesn't know what to say, so he opts to nod instead.

 

Later, when they're on their way home, Junmyeon sees a glimpse of the bruises on Jongin's arms.

It’s enough to ignite his imagination.

 

-

 

Junmyeon first hears the moans at three in the morning while he nurses a good smoke on the comforts of his sofa. A rerun of a boring old show is dull as compared to the moans. So Junmyeon grabs the remote control and mutes the damned thing. His exhale is loud and contradicting with the loud moans from his neighbor’s house. Puffs of smoke blur his vision as he digests the moans, every single one of them, and the underlying meaning behind it.

Jongin.

Who would ever thought? Junmyeon takes a long drag of his cigarette and blows another round of smoke. He’s still staring at nothing with nothing, but the lights from the end of the living room lit up. It casts a shadow on his serious face, showing the dark circles beneath his eyes. Another elicit moan reverberates through the thin walls. Junmyeon’s hold on the cigarette tightens. He crushes it on the cigarette butt and bites his lower lip.

“Ah...Taemin…” Jongin’s moans can be heard. It only irks Junmyeon so he stands up and throws a random book to the floor before he slams his bedroom door.

Just the thought of Jongin having sex with Taemin is more than enough to not let him sleep.

 

The next day Junmyeon hides his woes beneath his wayfarers and a comfortable hoodie. 

His hands dig the very bottom of his hoodie’s pockets when he locks the door to his rented flat. His head hurts and his feet feel wobbly. It’s been so long since he’s had a restless sleep that everything feels unfamiliar. He needs coffee, a very strong one. A bagel with cream cheese can probably help too. He’s playing with the keys on his hand when his neighbor’s door opens.

“I’ll see you next week, Jong,” A familiar voice rings in Junmyeon’s ears. He feels angry once again as he stops from his tracks and turns around. Taemin is kissing a bewildered Jongin while he’s struggling to wear his shoes. Jongin’s upper body is naked and filled with bruises. Instead of affection, there is something else on Jongin’s eyes. Something akin to fear. Junmyeon watches as Jongin meakly nods at Taemin and watches him walk, only to gasp when he sees Junmyeon a few meters away.

“Oh! Hyung, you’re up early?” Taemin attempts for distraction. Junmyeon’s eyebrows furrow as he grips his keys tightly. “I just spent the night at Jongin, you know, bonding sessions with my protégé” A dry laugh. Junmyeon’s eyes shift to Jongin who just stares at him, wide-eyed and cowering behind the door. His hands roam his body in a silly attempt to hide the bruises, but Junmyeon has seen enough.

“Sure, you did, Taemin,” Junmyeon says before he marches away from the scene.

 

-

 

The sex doesn’t stop despite Junmyeon’s knowledge.

The thin walls do nothing to stop Junmyeon’s migraine. So does the cigarettes.

He soon hides inside the bathroom; body sprawled on the dry bathtub with his feet raised and his fingers enclosed on a nicotine stick. Clouds of smoke fill the small bathroom as Junmyeon exhales. At least it’s safe here. The avocado green and mint white are a stark difference from the modern furniture pieces of his living room, but he’ll take this any time than hear the loud moans of his cousin and his lover in the room beside his.

Junmyeon closes his eyes and remembers vividly all the blacks and blues on Jongin’s skin. They still meet each other on a daily basis, pretending that the one and the other aren’t knowledgeable of Jongin’s dirty little secret: that he’s allowed himself to be the lover of his own mentor. But sometimes his attempts are flimsy. And Junmyeon can see the traces of their violent love. A growing bruise on Jongin’s neck, on his stomach, sometimes even his arms. There are even times when he has a hard time walking, hands cradling his hips for support and face contorting due to the awful feeling.

Another puff of smoke. Nirvana’s music lulls Junmyeon to peace, but Jongin’s fast fading smile alarms him. Gone is the smile Jongin exclusively offers to his closest friends, and is now replaced by a forced grin to mask the pain caused by his bleeding love. Junmyeon sighs; how do you save someone who does not want to be saved? He crushes his cigarette on the tiles and promises himself to clean it up later; he stands and goes to his porch for some fresh air.

The view of London when it’s near dawn is spectacular and lonely at the same time. It reminds Junmyeon of how simple his problems were back in Seoul, back when all he worried about was what he’s supposed to eat for dinner than what is he going to do for his feelings for Jongin.

Just the mere mention of the danseur makes Junmyeon raise his head and check his neighbor’s porch. The French doors are open and the curtains sway against the wind. Junmyeon walks closer to the edge of his porch and strains his neck to see. The lights are off on Jongin’s living room and…

Jongin’s unconscious body is sprawled on the floor.

It only takes three seconds for Junmyeon to rush to Jongin and a second to realize that he’s willing to do anything to save Jongin.

 

-

 

The ringing sound of the nebulizer is what wakes Jongin up.

Junmyeon is reading a book when he first shows signs of consciousness. A concussion, the doctor said. Probably an accident, the doctor said. The bruises on his upper body have almost healed, but the faint blues and blacks are still evident in some parts of his body. Jongin’s lips are cut, but not swollen anymore. His hair is smooth against his forehead and his fingers neatly trimmed.

It’s been three days since the ‘accident’.

And Taemin hasn’t visited. Not even once.

“Where am I?”

“Hospital,” Junmyeon casually says, putting a bookmark on the page he’s reading before closing it and getting a glass of water from the counter table.

Jongin attempts to assume a sitting position, but finds it hard, hands weak and falling in the process. “Since when?” His voice sound broken and Junmyeon can’t help wanting to hug him and just protect him from everything.

“Since three days ago where I found you unconscious on your apartment’s porch.”

Jongin doesn’t really know how to reply to that, so he stops squirming and lets his body rest on the hospital bed.

“Why?” Junmyeon sits beside Jongin, holding his hand. “Why did you let him control you, Jongin?”

“He loves me.”

“No. Taemin loves the power he has over you.”

“You don’t know anything, hyung.”

“I know enough to know that you deserve better than Taemin, Jongin.”

 

-

 

Junmyeon first hears the news through the television.

The endless snaps of cameras fill the background as a man shoves his microphone on Taemin’s face. The well-rehearsed smile and stature does not waver with the questions that sputter everywhere. Behind Taemin is his fiancée, Krystal Jung, Junmyeon’s childhood friend. They’re both dressed in red and white casual clothing and the engagement ring on Krystal’s finger reflects against the bright lights of the camera flashes. Taemin responds with a nod and a curt _‘Yes, we’re engagement now’_ , but the questions continue to fire away. What does this imply to your career? Where are you going to hold your wedding? Does this mean we can expect a baby soon? Soon, the bodyguards come and rescue them. Taemin pulls Krystal closer to him as they go inside Taemin’s luxury car.

Junmyeon has questions of his own too. Like _‘What’s going to happen to Jongin now?’_.

He turns off the television and goes out of his rented flat.

 

Jongin’s flat is unlocked and the lights are off. Despite the time being 8 in the evening, there’s no light permeating the place. Junmyeon doesn’t attempt to turn on one, completely understanding the meaning behind the darkness. He makes his way to Jongin’s room, having it memorized it by heart. The windows are open and the gust of wind makes the curtains sway against it.

“Jongin?” Junmyeon tentatively asks. He pads toward the bed and carefully pulls the covers so he can go inside with Jongin. Jongin doesn’t even bulge, doesn’t even react. He just stays there, unmoving and uncaring. Junmyeon drapes his hands on Jongin’s waist and wraps his legs on Jongin’s legs. He kisses Jongin’s nape and murmurs sorry although he’s not the one who’s supposed to be sorry.

The danseur finally reacts to Junmyeon’s coaxing after a minute or two. A sniffle turns into a sob and soon he’s shaking in Junmyeon’s arms as he curls to himself. Junmyeon just stays there and holds Jongin close. He pecks him on the cheeks, on the forehead, on the lips, anything to distract Jongin.

Soon, Jongin falls asleep due to tiredness.

“If only we could have met in different circumstances, Jongin. Then maybe. Just maybe. We could be together.”

 

-

 

There’s an airplane ticket to South Korea as well as an invitation for a popular dance studio in Seoul on Jongin’s dining table as soon as he goes home. He glimpses at it and immediately knows who’s it from. He stares at it for a minute or two before he goes to his porch to water his flowers.

 

-

 

Junmyeon looks from left to right.

The airplane will leave him if he doesn’t board in 10 minutes or so. The crew is glaring at him already. Everybody in the allotted room for his flight is already on board, except him. His hold on his passport and airplane ticket tightens while he checks his phone. Twenty missed calls and still no response.

With one last heavy sigh, Junmyeon boards the plane without looking back.

 

 


End file.
